word (wûrd) n. 1. A sound or a combination of sounds, or its representation in writing or printing, that symbolizes and communicates a meaning and may consist of a single morpheme or of a combination of morphemes. 2. A weblog that you are reading, right now.
First, thanks! I appreciate your passing the word along.
Second, I ask one thing of anyone who wants to link to "word". Rather than link to it, using my actual name, I ask that links to word, actually say simply "word" or "Mr.Bs blog".
I do this to protect myself from current and future employers who might come here and be distressed to see how often I say the word "fuck" or talk about "our fucking president" or how much I want to "fuck Rosario Dawson".
Your kind consideration keeps the Internets free for me to use dirty words and I thank you for it!
Cheers, Mr.B
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On Wednesday, January 25th, Baby Harrison was warmly welcomed into the world. Not as an actual, living, breathing human being, but as a concept. After a grueling day working tech for a show in the theater where he works, Baby Harrisons father, our good friend Joe and I met for a few quick cocktails at our neighborhood bar. We were all exhausted, but in a generally good mood.
Guiness was on special. Which suited Joe and the New Daddy, just fine. I had a soda. We shot a few games of pool, New Daddy lost the last game by scratching on the eight ball.
Joe and I teased New Daddy about this big change in his life. About the lack of sleep and sex that are on their way. And the mood swings and the increased possibility that the baby will be a great, hulking beast of a woman. (A joke that was formally retired then and there, per the New Daddy's request.) He just sat on his stool and smiled and loved every minute of the abuse that came his way. He knew it was all meant out of love.
When the bartender, Charlotte, found out what we were there celebrating, she served up a round of shots for us all of Jaeggermeister, Joe's favorite shot. We listened to an Elton John song in the background and toasted the new baby and the lovely woman who will bring that baby to life. And then slammed our shots of that nasty, vile liquid.
On our way out of the bar, we were all in a pretty good mood. We'd performed an important ritual to our group. The Recognizing of The Important Event. And we'd done it as men and as adults, quietly shooting a little pool, suffering the well-known abuses, even a little hard punching each other in the arm. On our way to the car, Joe stopped a few feet away and hugged me. And we both hugged Corey. There was nothing more to be said that would've been more eloquent than those minutes spent standing there on a Chicago sidewalk, hugging each other.
Friends for 10 years now. We've weathered long absences for schools and tours. We've fought over pedantic shit. When one of us was hurt by some careless person or some angry girl, the others were there to pick that guy up. And when the New Daddy got married, it meant as much to us as it did to him. We couldn't have been more proud. We couldn't ask for finer, life-long friends.
In addition to the good news about the baby's impending arrival, there was a bittersweet edge to it. This means that the New Daddy and his wife will likely have to move back to Kentucky soon. Back to Louisville. To be closer to their respective families. Their lives spent pursuing their careers in this big city have now shifted over to what would be best for the new baby. And for the new baby, having family around is best. As is having a purchased house for them to all live in. No more rentals for those guys. They're looking for a home to raise that baby in. And that home will likely be in Louisville.
We all knew it. And it was only briefly discussed when the New Daddy went to the bathroom.
It's selfish to think of it, but our lives here in Chicago will be diminished when they go back to Kentucky. The three of us are as tight as three friends can be, without having gone to war together. Losing one of us, even to something important and good as raising a family, is a deep, sad pain that the other two will very much feel.
Such is the way of life, I suppose. Nothing lasts forever. It's sad when friends move away. I don't think that will ever hurt any less, as I get older. It will always be sad to me.
Hmm, Funny old world.
Sometimes things don't turn out the way that you thought that they were going to.
Baby Harriosn, tiny, temporary microbe did not come to be born. As part of the very natural process that happens from time to time, the pregnancy did not take and 4 weeks after conception, the pregnancy terminated itself.
A sad story, yes.
But by that time, the plans were already in place for her parents, my friends, to move back home and away from Kentucky, altogether. An apartment was found. A very good paying job was secured. Friends, already there, were notified and my good friends moved away.
As I write this, there's no second Baby Harrison, on the way. I'm sure that the ... um... "invitations" have been sent for the second Baby Harrison, but so far, no dice.
It seems like a million years ago, since my friend and his lovely wife lived here. So much of my free time was happily spent, visting with them. Or out at the neighborhood bar with him.
I'm in a different neighborhood now. I go, when I go, to a different bar. It seems like so long ago, when I just had the casual luxury of walking five minutes and seeing my good friend.
Perhaps, I will give him a call tonight. I'm missing him, something fierce.
Cheers,
Mr.B
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